The door closes with a snap behind her, the sound almost making her jump. Suddenly she's unaccountably filled with nerves and she has to swallow hard and sternly tell herself off before she can pluck up the courage to turn and face him.

He's standing a few feet behind her, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and yet, despite his apparently relaxed posture, he seems to suddenly take up the entire room. It must be his eyes, she thinks as she stares into them, unable to look away from his intense gaze as he watches her.

Her mouth is suddenly dry and she finds herself almost trembling with a mixture of nerves, excitement and desire. She almost can't believe that they're here, that they've finally tied the knot and are going to make love after so many years of waiting and wanting, dreaming and longing for each other. Her chest is rising and falling fast now and she can hear the blood pounding in her ears as her pulse escalates with every passing moment.

"Alone at last," he murmurs softly in his deepest voice, making her shiver.

"Yes," she whispers, her voice barely audible over her erratic heartbeat.

She watches him take a measured step forwards, his eyes never leaving hers. "Ruth?" he murmurs softly. "Are you scared of me, my Ruth?"

"No," she shakes her head, frowning at him in concern. "No, Harry."

Slowly he closes the gap between them until just a foot or so remains as he says, "I'm not going to hurt you, Ruth. I'm not going to do anything that you don't want. This is just like any other night... well, afternoon actually, but you get my point." He reaches for her hands, checking her fidgeting that she hadn't even realised she was doing. "I just want to hold you and kiss you and love you... only this time we won't have to stop if we don't want to. We have time, Ruth. All the time in the world and we don't need to rush into anything right now."

She giggles then and sees him frown in confusion, so she explains, "It's funny that you said rush into anything when we've just got married so quickly."

He smiles, leaning towards her and stopping just short of her lips as he waits for her to complete the motion and press her lips to his. "I love you," she whispers and leans into him, slipping her arms over his shoulders as she kisses him. His hands grip her waist and he pulls her against him, his lips moving gently against hers, savouring every moment.

Then he pulls back to look at her, murmuring, "I love you, Ruth... so very much."

"I know," she smiles, feeling calmer now even though her insides are melting at the way he's looking at her. She drops her gaze then to look at his body, admiring how smart and sexy he looks. She slips her hands down from his shoulders to his tie, fingering the soft silk before she reaches up to undo the knot, thinking that it must be hard for him to breathe with it still tied so securely around his neck. She loosens it gently, her fingers softly brushing against his skin and making his breathing hitch and her insides melt a little more at the sound. Once it's undone, she pulls it free from his collar and turns, dropping it onto the sofa beside them.

Harry takes the opportunity to slip off his jacket and carefully drape it over the arm of the sofa before turning to face her once more, watching as she reaches up to unbutton his collar. "Better?" she asks, watching him take a deep breath as it comes undone.

"Much," he smiles. "I hate wearing a tie," he confesses.

"And I rather like you with an open collar," she agrees, reaching her fingers up to caress his soft skin and making him exhale heavily. Then she begins to work on the rest of the buttons of his shirt, releasing two more before she reaches his waistcoat and has to switch to unbuttoning that instead. "What an awful lot of buttons," she complains with a smile. He chuckles softly, reaching his hands up to help her, but she immediately objects, "No, let me. I enjoy undressing you."

"All right," he almost growls, his voice is so deep, "so long as you allow me the same courtesy."

She nods, unable to find her voice as images of his hands peeling away her clothes and gliding over her skin fill her mind. Her hands begin to tremble slightly, so she takes a deep breath and exhales slowly in the hope of steadying them.

"Alright?" he asks, his voice suddenly soft and smooth like silk.

"Yes," she whispers. "It's just..."

"What?"

"It's just you... your proximity and thinking about... us, what will happen... It's so..."

"Nerve-raking?" he offers.

"No," she shakes her head, pausing as she pulls open his waistcoat and lifts her eyes to his, "I mean yes, perhaps. I was going to say exciting and wonderful and... you're right, nerve-raking. I've wanted this for... oh, years now, and I can't quite believe that it's happening. That you're my husband... and soon you'll be my lover too... and I confess, I am a little nervous because... well, because it's something we've both wanted and dreamt of and... fantasized about for so long that I'm a little worried I'll... disappoint you, and-"

"Don't talk nonsense, Ruth," he interrupts as he reaches his hands up to cup her cheeks, scanning her face with loving, passion filled eyes. "How could the reality ever fall short of a mere dream?" He smiles then and kisses her lips softly, pulling back quickly to look at her again, adding earnestly, "I can take over, Ruth, if you want. I'm enjoying this – you undressing me, the slow pace – very much, but if you need me to, I can take charge and we can get lost in the passion and each other."

"No," she shakes her head determinedly, the logic of his words doing wonders to calm her nerves. He's right; she's being silly. Dreams could never be better than the reality of them coming together at last. Not when she's felt the intensity of the raw passion they feel for each other which, quite miraculously, they've managed to keep more or less contained until this moment. "I like this. I've never undressed you before and I like the slow pace for now... even if it does feel a little like torture." She smiles up at him and pushes his waistcoat off his shoulders, draping it over his jacket and adding with a mischievous smile as she turns back to face him, "It's a good kind of torture."

"Oh, yes," he grins. "The very best."

"Mmmm, braces," she hums as she lowers her gaze from his face once more and glides her hands over his chest, stopping to slip her fingers under his braces and sliding her hands down them. "I love you in braces, Harry Pearce. You know I've always wanted to do this," and slipping her fingers out from under the elastic, she pulls it towards her and lets go, making them twang against his chest and belly. He doesn't make a sound, which surprises her and makes her lift her eyes to his face again. He's smiling broadly at her, the twinkle in his eyes making her heart melt and skip several beats.

"Is this the part where I get to twang your bra strap?" he asks as he leans towards her with a devilish grin, his right hand sneaking up her back.

"No!" she exclaims in alarm, twisting away from his questing hand and squealing in surprise as his arms swiftly wrap around her and pull her against him, his body pressing snugly against her back.

"Tut tut, Ruth," he murmurs near her ear, making shivers run down her spine again. "It's only fair. Tit for tat."

"Hardly fair, Harry," she manages to reply. "Pulling a bra strap really hurts."

"And?" he growls, before tugging on her ear lobe with his teeth.

"Oh, God," he gasps and feels her knees go weak, but he's holding her securely in his arms so she doesn't crumble to the floor as she half expects. "Did it hurt when I twanged your braces?" she asks with a frown of concern when she's recovered enough to speak.

"Perhaps," he murmurs.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't think. I didn't mean to hurt you. I-"

"You didn't," he smiles and she can hear the smugness in his voice as she pulls away from him and spins round to glare at him. He shrugs and gives her an apologetic look to placate her, adding, "It's not the most pleasant feeling in the world, but it wasn't painful..." He tails off and takes a step towards her so their chests are almost touching, gripping her hips with his large, warm hands so she cannot escape, before he whispers, his voice dropping into a low rumble, "Mind you, there aren't many things you could do that would be painful right about now." Then he reaches forwards to kiss her and this time he holds nothing back. All his love, desire and passion are poured into this kiss so that she's powerless to do anything but capitulate, pouring her own feelings for him into it, adding fuel to the fire that's blazing between them until it consumes them both.

Their remaining garments are discarded hastily. They toe off their shoes, her dress pools at her feet, his shirt and vest land haphazardly on the sofa, and his trousers fall onto the floor with his braces still attached. They tumble into bed, their lips coming apart for a moment only to find new skin to explore, to taste, to feel. "You're so beautiful, Ruth," he murmurs as he lifts his head for a moment to look at her, raking his eyes over her figure and letting his left hand follow his gaze, delicately stroking her skin and fingering her ice blue, lacy bra and panties. "It's been the hardest thing I've ever had to do, Ruth – waiting for you all these years and especially these last few days when I could have had you hundreds of times already."

"Hundreds?" she giggles, raising her eyes to his from where they've been busy admiring his body, the broadness of his chest, the strength of his shoulders and thighs, the softness of his belly and the largeness of the bulge in his trunks.

"Hundreds, Ruth," he growls as he pulls her against him and begins to devour her once more, rolling her underneath his body as their lips fuse together and their hands glide freely over each other, slipping under their few remaining garments and working to bring pleasure until even that is not enough. Then they strip each other naked and come together at last, their bodies joining in incredible perfection. "Look at me, Ruth," he murmurs huskily as he fills her and stills inside her, so she opens her eyes to stare into his, fighting the feeling of vulnerability that twists her gut as she opens herself to him like this and lets him see into the deepest, darkest parts of her soul, and at the same time, marvelling at being allowed a glimpse into his own and feeling her breath catch at all that she sees there. No words are necessary to express their love and the sense of completion that they feel in this moment.

Slowly they begin to move, prolonging the exquisite sensations and tender closeness between them until they can hold back no more and everything is fire and passion and exquisite bliss.

Her head is nestled under his chin, her left arm draped across his waist and left leg wrapped around his right one when she finally opens her eyes and moves her head back to look at him. Sensing her movement away from him, he begins to roll backwards, but she quickly slips her hand down and grabs his bum, holding him firmly against her and murmuring, "No, don't go."

He stills then and smiles, pulling his upper body away from her slightly to see her better. "Hello, my gorgeous wife," he murmurs, his smile broadening into a big grin and she can't help but grin back.

They watch each other for several moments, their eyes radiating love and joy. "I like it here," he murmurs eventually. "I wish I could stay like this with you always."

"We'd starve," she points out playfully, "and get cold."

"Ever my practical Ruth," he replies.

"Well, someone has to be," she smiles. "Besides, we have to come apart in order to come together again."

"If I were thirty years younger, Ruth," he murmurs seductively, "I'd prove your theory wrong. As it is, however, I fear it'll take several hours for me to be ready to go again."

"Good," she sighs.

"Good?" he frowns.

"Yes, good," she murmurs. "I don't know why you men always think that that's a problem. It's not the quantity that's important, but the quality of the love making."

He smiles, reaching his hand up and threading his fingers through her hair, massaging the base of her skull and making her moan with pleasure. "And was it good?" he asks softly.

"Fishing for complements, are we?" she smiles.

"Hmmm," he hums. "Just making sure you enjoyed it as much as I did."

"It wasn't just good, Harry, it was bloody fantastic and you know it," she sighs, leaning forward and resting her forehead against his shoulder to give his magical fingers better access to the back of her head and neck. "You were right. It was so much better than I ever dreamt it would be."

"That's good," he smiles, continuing to massage her scalp, her neck, her shoulders. "That's very good."